8As I write, the war against
Iraq rages on, and the sheer sense of trauma is overwhelming.
Under such conditions, one must wonder whether a doctrinal conversation
about Islam and democracy has any point. Why appeal to the hearts
and minds of Muslims when economic, political, and military forces
are so uncompromisingly coercive?

The slaughter in Iraq may tempt us to surrender to cynicism about
claims of democracy, freedom, and dignity for all. In my view,
in this war the flag of democracy has been exploited in order
to justify an enormous amount of bloodshed. But just because some
Muslims abuse Islam for immoral purposes, I am not tempted to
abandon my faith. Likewise, the abuse of moral universals to justify
immoral conductsuch as invading a country in the name of
democracydoes not dissuade me from recognizing the worthiness
of these normative goals.

With great sadness about current political events, but with confidence
in the importance of moral ideas, democratic values, and my own
Islamic faith, I turn to the comments of my respondents, to whom
I am deeply grateful.

1. The West vs. Islam?

Some respondents, Saba Mahmood included, prefer not to waste
time on doctrinal issues, and would rather focus on Western hegemony
and belligerence, and the failure of Western democracies to live
up to their own standards (see Kevin Reinharts response).
Though I share these concerns, I think that John Esposito gets
it right: reformist efforts at democratization do not imply
uncritical acceptance of Western democratic forms. Democracy
is a political institution with moral foundations. The possibility
that the West has failed to live up to the democratic ideal is
an unfortunate fact, but it has little bearing upon my normative
commitments as a Muslim and democrat. Moreover, while the West
might appropriately claim pride of authorship over democratic
institutions, the moral values that inform such a system haveas
I tried to show in my essaypowerful resonances within the
Islamic tradition.

To be sure, Islam must challenge subjugation on the basis of
class, ethnicity, and gender. But a commitment to democracy and
to the basic rights of human beings is hardly inconsistent with
such a challenge. Implicit visions of human rights often lie at
the heart of socio-political demands for empowerment. The right
thing to do is to make this vision explicit, and thus render it
publicly accessible and accountable.

And while we are skeptical of the universality of Western values
and respectful of the integrity of the Islamic experience, we
also need to be wary of strategies that exaggerate the distinctiveness
of Islam. Critics of Orientalism have long emphasized that it
inflicts upon Islam an exoticism that reflects the fears and imperialist
fantasies of Orientalist scholars. While critical scholars such
as Mahmood aim to undo this legacy, their work may serve to sustain
it. They challenge asserted moral values, including the norms
of democracy, as false universals, but offer no moral alternatives.
Their opposition conforms to the reactive state of modern Islamic
discourse. Much of this discourse is formed by the experience
of colonialism and imperialism, and is hostage to a traumatized
condition in which obsessive concerns with autonomy are coupled
with a disregard of the need for constructive self-definition.

2. Islam and Democracy

In my essay, I recognize democracy as a moral value, and seek
to define my faith in a way that is consistent with the normative
demands of a democratic order. Here, I agree with Nader Hashemi:
The real focus should not be on what Islam is, but rather,
what do Muslims want. Esposito, William Quandt, Bernard
Haykel, Jeremy Waldron, and Noah Feldman are admirably respectful
of the right of Muslims to direct the ethical compass of their
faith, and to shape their moral destinies.

If Muslims become convinced that democracy is not only desirable
but also an Islamic imperative, they will strive to overcome both
intellectual and political challenges to its implementation. For
Muslims, a democratic commitment cannot be made in a doctrinal
vacuum, but will require that it reconcile with their religious
convictions. In this process of reconciliation, convictions may
change, and democratic theory and practice might have to be modified.
For instance, in my view, liberal Western democracies give insufficient
weight to economic and social security rights.

My essay focused principally on Islamic doctrinal justification,
and not on the complexities of democratic theory. That said, I
do agree with Haykel and Waldron that democracy is not just about
the rule of law or a system of rights, but also about the integrity
of process and the practice of legitimate opposition. I would
argue that at the core of democracy are the ideas of representative
government, limits on the power of government, and the safeguarding
of basic human rights. Then there are derivative but necessary
rights, institutions, and practices that flow from this core,
such as the right to associate and form oppositional groups, the
right to reflect and speak, and the institution of an independent
and fair judiciary. Once the core democratic beliefs are reconciled
with Islam, the derivations are much easier to justify. Even at
the doctrinal level, working out the full details is a long-term
process that can only commence once the fundamental democratic
commitment is explicitly argued. This was the primary purpose
of my essay.

3. But Is It Islamic?

My argument for democracy draws on six basic ideas: 1) Human
beings are Gods vicegerents on earth; 2) this vicegerency
is the basis of individual responsibility; 3) individual responsibility
and vicegerency provide the basis for human rights and equality;
4) human beings in general, and Muslims specifically, have a fundamental
obligation to foster justice (and more generally to command right
and forbid wrong), and to preserve and promote Gods law?;
5) divine law must be distinguished from fallible human interpretations;
and 6) the state should not pretend to embody divine sovereignty
and majesty.

This summary provides the basis of my reply to Mohammed Fadel
and Muqtedar Khan. Fadel urges, in effect, that we investigate
divine will in its unadulterated form, paying little heed to what
he believes are false Western universalisms and past interpretive
efforts. Thus Fadel traces my views to the rationalist (Mutazali)
tradition within Islam, and insists that they represent a heretofore
discredited theological argument. I do not consider myself
a follower of the so-called discredited school, nor do I believe
that pure reason defines what is good and moral. Instead, goodness,
morality, and beauty (husn) are defined in an interactive
dynamic between revelation, human reflection upon nature and creation,
and human perception of socio-historical experience.

Fadel also insists that the ultimate good in Islam is salvation,
not justice. In my view, the emphasis on salvation reflects the
impact of Christian symbolism and language on Islam. Quranic
Arabic lacks a literal equivalent to the word salvation;
more broadly, I believe that the concept of salvation, fundamental
to Christianity, is foreign to the Qurans language
and spirit. Furthermore, I would argue that struggling to enjoin
the good and forbid the evil, and being just with oneself and
other human beings and creation, is essential to finding balance
(al-mizan), equanimity, and peace. And the pursuit
of this peace, balance, and justice lies at the core of submission
to God, and the obligations of vicegerency. The point here is
not that my arguments are convincing, but only that because of
my contextmy intellectual upbringing, personal history,
and theological trainingFadels claims about salvation
seem foreign and odd to me. This only demonstrates that both Fadel
and I are each embedded in his own context, and each of us understands
the Islamic tradition from his own subjective and unique vantage
point.

While Fadel thinks I am insufficiently orthodox, Khan thinks
that I do not go far enough. Khan thinks that Muslims should forget
about Sharia; otherwise we perpetuate a Khomeni-style theocracy,
where jurists (fuqaha) become the representatives of
divine will and truth.

In my view, Khans response perfectly exemplifies the problem
with much of the contemporary work done by Islamist reformers.
Their lack of methodology often poses insurmountable obstacles
to engaging these reformers in a systematic fashion. In Islamic
theology, Sharia is identified as the way to the fulfillment
of the divine will. The processes of Sharia search the divine
will by reference to doctrinal and historical sources, as well
as a variety of rational and sociological devices (such as studying
human custom or considering public interest). Some reformers,
like Khan, rebel against the prized position of Sharia.
But they rarely explore the implications of their positions. The
undisciplined selectiveness that is characteristic of liberal
reformers does serious violence to the traditions of Islam without
offering a coherent replacement for them.

4. Final Thoughts

Since the onslaught of colonialism and modernity, Islamic traditions
have been in a state of intense instability. Some have treated
this legacy as a defensive mechanism against modernity, while
others have surrendered themselves entirely to their modern context
without much regard to the insights of past generations. If democracy
is to become a normative goal for large numbers of Muslims, and
is to be achieved in Muslim countries, it will have to be anchored
in both Islam and modernity. Achieving this objective will require
a serious discourse that negotiates between past and present without
dismissing either. This is why the current engagement between
my interlocutors and myself is particularly valuable. The fact
that this debate is taking place at all while terrorism and war
grip the worlds attention underscores the possibility and
value of the democratic practice of civil discourse. <

Khaled Abou El Fadl is the Omar and Azmeralda
Alfi Distinguished Fellow in Islamic Law at UCLA and author most
recently of The Place of Tolerance in Islam.